


Rough Sketch

by oorsprong, PolypusRegina



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Drawing, Fluff, Implied Sexual Content, Kissing, Kylo oversteps his boundaries, M/M, Sweetness, artistic!Hux, don't die of a toothache okay Pidgy, i don't think that's even possible frankly but just in case
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-23
Updated: 2016-04-23
Packaged: 2018-06-04 02:17:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,110
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6637057
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oorsprong/pseuds/oorsprong, https://archiveofourown.org/users/PolypusRegina/pseuds/PolypusRegina
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“You know, I have to say that your talent must be better than your memory because you didn’t get the freckles quite right,” he says, a hesitant smirk creeping into the corners of his lips as he flicks a lazy gesture back toward the sketches of himself. “If you need me to sit down for you sometime so you can get some practice in I could be convinced.”</p><p>Hux almost smiles at this peace offering or whatever it is, certain that Ren isn’t serious.  And then an idea hits him.</p><p>“Since you’re so eager why not right now?  Take off your outer garments and sit.  Go ahead, I could use the practice.”  His eyes meet Ren’s in a dare.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rough Sketch

**Author's Note:**

  * For [pidgy_writes](https://archiveofourown.org/users/pidgy_writes/gifts).



> This lovely prompt was done as a gift for Pidgy for her beautiful artwork for a fic we did. She requested a darling scenario and we have endeavored to fill that prompt to the best of our ability. Hope this is enjoyable for all!

Kylo knows it isn’t his most clever plan. He knows it’s foolish and ill-advised and a thousand other things, but that isn’t stopping him from doing it. He doesn’t do much thinking when he’s this enraged. He’s focused on one single goal and in order to get there he isn’t above letting himself into Hux’s private quarters, a dark, furious blur as he sweeps inside like he owns every last inch of the ship.

He isn’t entirely sure what it is he’s looking for, either. He doesn’t plan that far ahead, just hopes that he’ll stumble upon something anything that he can use to finally shut the General up. All his attempts so far have failed, and Kylo’s patience is wearing thin, making him vicious and petty as he struggles to rethink his strategy. And this is where he ends up, rifling through Hux’s desk drawers with little concern about putting everything back in its rightful place.

Surely there has to be something there that would be… mildly incriminating at the very least; some questionable document, some strange paraphernalia that he could lord over him with. He doesn’t want Hux thrown from the Order, just knocked down a few pegs. Or a dozen. It depends on the day, and today it’s more like a hundred and that number isn’t dropping the longer he searches. No, the search just fuels him, fills him with rage and frustration that even the General’s personal quarters are so spotless and tidy, so perfect.

He’s close to abandoning the effort when he finally palms open a long flat drawer at the top, the inside of which is actually not that tidy at all. It’s strewn with paper-- with drawings. The sketches range from the quick and messy to the precise and meticulous. It’s such an utterly unexpected sight that Kylo doesn’t know what to do with himself for a moment.

He reaches down to touch them, pushing aside a few drawings of Hux’s cat Millicent, one of the view just beyond the bridge of the ship, and a still-life of what looks to be flowers (though where Hux might have ever gotten real flowers, he isn’t sure). He flings them carelessly to the floor where they scatter. There’s a stack of sketches beneath them that he’s more curious about, considering they look so very much like...well, himself. Kylo picks one up to inspect it, as if expecting some indicator that it isn’t actually him. But it has to be.

The likeness of himself isn’t looking back at the viewer. He’s staring off to one side, maskless, seemingly a little distracted. Maybe even a bit sad. And clearly not aware that he’s being drawn at all. Kylo has to wonder if Hux did it from memory, or if he’d actually done it while Ren wasn’t paying any attention.

There’s a strange sort of feeling that sits heavy in the pit of Kylo’s stomach. It’s new and uncomfortable and he doesn’t know what to think. It’s such an unexpected find that it throws off everything he ever thought about the General and just like that he’s overcome with a surge of renewed anger, furious that Hux could do such a thing-- as if capturing his portrait is some sort of violent act against his physical autonomy. He works so hard to keep himself covered, trusts so few people to see him unguarded. It manages to feel like a bizarre sort of betrayal.

Before he even knows what he’s doing, the drawing is torn to pieces in his hands.

The ruined bits of paper flutter to the floor, scattered over the other drawings, and Kylo can barely breathe he’s so livid. It’s an all-consuming feeling, and it’s a small miracle that he hasn’t already destroyed something else.

But as he struggles to get a hold of himself his eyes are drawn to a second sketch tucked there beneath the first. His chest is still heaving and his jaw still feels tight as he reaches for it, intent on shredding this one as well. But as he lifts it up to get a closer look at it first, something suddenly changes.

It’s another image of himself without his mask but he’s not facing the viewer at all. It’s from the back and Ren can only make out a sliver of his profile over one dark shoulder, facing off into the distance with an almost melancholic tone to it. It feels so strangely intimate and he has to assume Hux actually drew it while he was watching him, which should only infuriate him even further. He can feel it trying valiantly to bubble up, but… he can’t help but wonder why Hux chose such an odd subject. Why draw someone who isn’t even looking at you? Why draw him at all?

***

Hux arrives back at his quarters in a foul mood. The day has been particularly trying and the only upside is that he hasn’t run into Ren once. Perhaps the knight has taken to heart the heavy reprimand Hux had given him the other day over wasting their resources by throwing another tantrum. He’d done it in full view of other officers. It is regrettable that Ren has pushed him to that length but now there is no question of who’s in charge. Now he’ll able to lose himself in a few quick sketches of Millicent. He’s earned it. She isn’t much of a lap cat but she likes to sit beside him at the perfect angle to be drawn while he balances the book on his lap.

When the door slides open his heart drops.

“Ren,” he gasps. He takes in the sight with growing horror. His living area is a mess; papers-- his drawings!-- strewn everywhere. One is ripped in pieces. He opens his mouth but no sound comes out. A discarded sketch facing up shows the clean lines of Ren’s mask while another shows him maskless and facing away.

So he’s seen it all.

“Ren,” he tries again, forcing the words out, “This isn’t-- I mean to say, this is--”

Then he catches sight of Millicent cowering under a chair and a wave of fury consumes him, pushing out his shame and frustration at being caught out this way. How dare Ren come into his quarters, scare the living hell out of his poor cat, and rifle through his personal belongings.

Hux strides over to the knight, fearless in his rage.

“What hell are you doing! Do you think you can get away with attempting to intimidate me this way? I’ll have your head for this!”

It’s bold talk and he has nothing to back it up with but at the moment he can’t bring himself to care. He reaches for the knight, ready to bodily remove him from his quarters when he’s suddenly frozen in place.

“Damn you!” he shouts, unable to even turn his head. “Let go of me!”

Ren makes a motion with his hand and releases Hux who shifts warily and circles the knight.

“Explain yourself!”

“I was just…”

Hux’s eyes widen as Ren removes his mask and sets it aside with a huff. It feels like a bold move, making himself so vulnerable without that last line of defense. But it’s a necessary one.

“I wasn’t expecting to find… anything like this,” he finally says, his voice almost timid without the usual harsh distortion. He’s torn between wanting to apologize and wanting to stand his ground. He realizes now that he’s made a mistake, that he’s gone too far. But he isn’t about to cower and beg for forgiveness.

“Why are you here?” Hux snaps. He’s fully aware that Ren could do gods know what to him and he wouldn’t be able to stop it but the knight’s sudden softening of tone emboldens him.

Kylo exhales noisily through his nose and glances away, unsure he can trust himself to think logically if he’s staring the General down.

“Why do you think I came here? I--...I don’t know, I got desperate and nothing was working and I was ready to strangle you. I thought maybe I’d find something here to get you off of my back.”

“And did you find what you were looking for?” Hux narrows his eyes, refusing to even give the drawings a glance as he keeps his eyes on Ren.

He lets his gaze flicker back up to Hux, unsurprised to see them locked on his own in return. But they fall away again before he finally deflates and murmurs:

“No.”

Hux makes a noise of disgust as he looks down at his drawings. “But you couldn’t resist destroying them anyway, could you?”

In fact, most of the drawings are fine. They only need to be returned to the drawer but seeing them scattered across the floor hurts. As though Ren has deemed this hobby he’s poured his soul into unworthy of even a modicum of respect.

“I only tore one,” Ren answers, as if it’s a perfectly acceptable response. There’s a part of him that still wants to be angry, to feel betrayed. For once in his life, he manages to fight it. “I told you, I wasn’t expecting anything like this. I wasn’t expecting to see myself in there. I didn’t know you took up this sort of… hobby.”

“Well,” Hux says, crossing his arms over his chest. “My father discouraged any artistic leanings but it helps me to clear my head. If you’re offended I’ll stop using you as a subject. Is that what you want?”

Kylo opens his mouth as if to emphatically agree, to say that yes, it is what he wants. But the words don’t escape him because he isn’t sure it’s true. He wants to ask why he’s a subject at all when Hux’s distaste for him seems so obvious but he doesn’t say that, either.

“No. I’m not offended.” Not anymore. “Just surprised, I suppose. You can draw whatever you like. That’s not really my call, is it?”

He’s quiet for a beat, bending to scoop his helmet back up and feeling like he suddenly needs the reassurance of holding it even if he isn’t wearing it. Or maybe it’s just in case he needs to make a hasty retreat when he finally adds:

“They really are beautiful, you know.”

Hux glances up at him, the heat of anger in his cheeks augmented by a fresh blush at the unexpected compliment.

“Do you really think so?”

For all that he knows Hux must be flustered by the compliment Ren isn’t much better off. He summons a little more courage and looks back up at the General in the hopes of adding some credibility to his words.

“I know that’s just my opinion, but… I really do think so. It’s a shame your father didn’t encourage it, because you’ve clearly got the talent for it.”

Hux doesn’t know what to say to that. Privately he’s pleased by the compliment because he also believe he’s quite good and Ren didn’t have to acknowledge it at all.

“Thank you,” the General says finally. Credit where credit is due, he supposes. Ren’s made a mess of things and forced himself into his quarters. They will have to discuss this but right now he just wants everything to go back to the way it was before he walked in.

Or rather, he’d like some time to sit down with a graphite stick and start on another sketch. Maybe it will still help clear his mind of the events of the day.

“Well. We’ll have words later. For the moment you’re excused.”

Kylo gives a little nod at that, figuring he should probably be grateful that Hux didn’t just explode into a rage. It’s hardly a free pass but it’s something. And he probably has that to blame for the sudden boldness that rises up in his chest, making him want to push just a tiny bit further.

“You know, I have to say that your talent must be better than your memory because you didn’t get the freckles quite right,” he says, a hesitant smirk creeping into the corners of his lips as he flicks a lazy gesture back toward the sketches of himself. “If you need me to sit down for you sometime so you can get some practice in I could be convinced.”

Hux almost smiles at this peace offering or whatever it is, certain that Ren isn’t serious. And then an idea hits him.

“Since you’re so eager why not right now? Take off your outer garments and sit. Go ahead, I could use the practice.” His eyes meet Ren’s in a dare.

Kylo hadn’t meant his offer to be a complete joke-- he didn’t want Hux thinking he was mocking him. But he was also fairly certain the man wouldn’t actually take him up on it. So when he does, he can’t help the way his expression changes into something mildly surprised.

“Right now?” He answers, pausing for a moment to consider. But it only takes him a second to decide. “I think I can manage that.”

Ren moves to set his helmet back down, leaving it out of the way before he removes his cowl and belt, shrugging off his heavier outer robes. There’s soon a pile of dark fabric built up, but he stops there.

Hux is impressed. Both by Ren’s willingness to call his bluff and, more begrudgingly, by what he’s seeing of Ren now that he’s disrobing. He takes in the sight, telling himself it’s for his art and nothing to do with his personal tastes and then he points to a spot on the floor and says, “There please.”

He begins to collect the drawings scattered across the floor and put them away before gathering his supplies. Feeling oddly self-conscious he takes a new book from a few fresh ones put away in a drawer. This will be the start of a new series depending on how many he can get Ren to sit for. These feel special. He might not get the chance again. He sits on a plush chair and huffs a little as Millicent flees from under it and disappears into the bedroom.

“Do you mind facing away from me for a moment?”

In truth he’s too nervous to look Ren full in the face.

Kylo glances over at the spot that Hux picks for him, not exactly loving the idea of just sitting on the floor, but not willing to argue about it, either. He does as he’s asked and moves to have a seat a few feet away from him, facing the General at first. It seemed like a given. But then he hears the next request, and he can’t help but arch a skeptical brow at him.

“Right, of course,” he answers, confused as to why but willing to comply. He shifts to turn around, putting his back mostly to Hux so he can just barely see him out of the corner of his eye.

“Perfect,” Hux says admiringly. He picks up the graphite stick and begins to sketch an outline. This is his element. Ren can be captured on paper and studied with an impartial eye there. He’s eager-- practically giddy-- to be able to work on the finer points of the knight’s features up close instead of relying on memory. It’s as though he’s sitting across from a dangerous predator who has agreed to sit still for him.

He etches out a rough drawing and shades it in quickly, confidence renewed.

“This is really rather helpful, Ren,” he mutters. “I don’t suppose you’d mind stripping down to your underclothes? I’d like to practice the form.”

Unhesitatingly he holds out his book for Ren to take and see what he’s done so far.

Ren glances over when he sees Hux move and stares at the book for a moment before he realizes he’s actually offering it to him to take. And so he does, holding it gingerly in still-gloved hands to take a closer look at what he’s drawn so far. It’s effortless and beautiful, even a little messy in places without looking sloppy. Then Hux’s words register properly in his head as he hands him the book back, and he hopes he isn’t actually flushing.

“I suppose not,” he murmurs, figuring he’s come this far, and a few more items of clothing shouldn’t stop him. And so he pushes himself up to his feet, steps out of his boots, and peels everything else off until he’s left standing in nothing but his shorts and undershirt. Considering he’d felt rather naked only without his mask, this was… something else entirely. But he reminds himself that it’s a favor for Hux, that it’s for the sake of his artwork, and blows out a steady breath as he takes a seat on the floor once more.

“Still facing away from you?”

“No, Ren,” Hux gently sits down in front of the chair to be a bit closer to his subject. “Would you mind facing me this time?”

Ren adjusts his pose then, turning to face Hux. He’s a little surprised to see him on the floor as well, putting less space between them, but he tries to ignore it. It’s hard enough keeping as still as possible.

“Beautiful,” Hux says, taking in the lines of Ren’s body; his muscular legs and the breadth of his shoulders. He suddenly realizes what he’s saying and hunches furiously over his sketchbook, busying himself with another outline and hoping Ren isn’t somehow reading his mind.

This time he gets the freckles right. This time he can see more of them. He refuses to meet Ren’s eyes until the drawing as close to finished as it will ever be and then shows him.

“See, this is much better.”

Of course Kylo hears that little slip up, the fleeting ghost of a grin appearing and disappearing on his lips as he takes it in. But he doesn’t try to press for more, instead just staying quiet until Hux speaks again and holds the sketch out to him once more.

“Better,” he hums, a soft laugh laced into his words, as if he feels silly saying it’s better than all the others, which were amazing to begin with. “You got all my freckles right this time. I can’t imagine how…”

“Mm. Do you mind taking your shirt off?” He tries and fails to sound nonchalant, hoping Ren won’t think this is untoward. He needs the practice.

His gaze flickers up from the drawing to look at Hux, almost unsure he’d heard him correctly at first. It’s a bold request, to be sure. But despite himself he’s actually having a bit of fun and clearly Hux must be enjoying it too, if he’s not kicking him right back out.

“How about… I will, if you will?”

The General studies him for a long moment.

“Very well.”

If it will make Ren feel more comfortable there’s no harm in it. He unfastens his uniform and slips off the top. The undershirt quickly follows. Now he’s bare-chested and feeling a bit ridiculous but he keeps his eyes on Ren.

“Go ahead.”

Kylo watches perhaps a little more closely than he should, almost in disbelief that Hux so readily agrees. It feels like some sort of trick once the General is sitting there bare from the waist up, but it’s a surprisingly welcome development. And given that he’s already sitting there in only two items of clothing, it isn’t much of a stretch to ditch one more. So he does, tugging off his undershirt and tossing it aside with everything else. It feels so strangely easy in a way he never would have expected.

“Better?”

“Much better.”

Hux begins a new sketch, a closeup this time. He puts down a rough outline and slowly fills it in, pleased with how it’s coming along.

“You know,” he murmurs as he shades in the spaces between Kylo’s hands, “You really do have striking hands. They’re a challenge to do justice to but well worth the effort.”

“I have ‘striking hands’?” Kylo can’t help but break his pose to look down, flexing his fingers a little as if there’s something there he’s never noticed before. There’s something light and teasing in his words, but the comment is so genuine he has to accept it for what it is-- a compliment paid in Hux’s own unique way.

“Ah, ah,” Hux chides him as he moves his hands. “Keep still.”

He sneaks a glance over the paper at Kylo, the hint of a smile on his face.

“Yes. You do,” he continues. Striking is the most diplomatic way to put it. What Hux really thinks of the knight’s hands is really none of his business, but he finds them extraordinarily beautiful.

“Your eyes too,” he adds, not meaning to say it outloud. He makes a face and busies himself fixing a smudge on the paper.

By the time Hux’s next remark slips out, Kylo almost misses it. He’s suddenly too engrossed in keeping as still as a statue and has to force his gaze off to one side just so he won’t become distracted by the barely-there grin he can see on the General’s lips.

But he doesn’t miss it. It sinks in just a second later and he caves, letting himself glance back over at Hux as a coy smirk threatens to make an appearance.

“Like you’re one to talk about eyes. Makes me think you don’t have a mirror in your quarters at all, and I know that’s not true.”

Hux snorts and shakes his head.

“I don’t know what you mean, Ren.”

He stretches his legs a little as he hunches over the drawing. It’s not as comfortable working on the floor but it’s nice to relax this way with the knight sprawled out across from him. It’s intimate in a way he’s never been with a subject before and he’s thrilled at the way it seems to improves each line, each scritch of the graphite, each small detail; as though there is some connection between his eye and his hand that’s improved by his newfound comfort with Kylo.

Kylo allows himself a soft laugh, a single bemused huff before he draws in another breath and glances away once more. He knows he’s creeping into dangerous territory, and it’s harder to ignore that so long as he’s staring at the eyes he’s about to wax poetic over.

“My eyes are brown,” he answers simply, shifting just the slightest bit. “Hazel, perhaps, if you really want to debate it. But yours? I bet I could ask every last person in the Order and they’d each give me a different answer.”

“Your eyes,” Hux mutters as he focuses on that feature in the drawing, tracing the lines again and shading the corners, “are nothing of the sort. You know it rained a lot where I was born; twice a week it felt like. Except in summer...” he trailed off and shook his head. “No matter. When the rain came heavy in early spring the ground would be covered in greenspire-- a plant native to Arkanis. They were a menace really, sucking the moisture out of the ground as fast as it could soak in, but beautiful when they flowered. Greenspire thrives in rich, waterlogged soil. When I was a child I remember sinking my fingers into that good soil and tasting it. It always tasted of growing things. That foundation was the root of all life on Arkanis. And your eyes are that color too.”

Kylo is still doing his best not to budge from his original position as he listens to Hux ramble on, but he eagerly takes the opportunity to get a proper look at him while he’s too busy with his drawing to notice. It isn’t as though he’s never looked at the General so closely. He’s noticed things about him, of course. But there’s something so different observing him in this headspace where he doesn’t think anyone will be watching him. Kylo can’t decide what he wants to focus on more-- Hux, or the imagery he’s so carefully weaving for him. It’s an impossible choice.

“How is it that you can claim my eyes are the color of dirt, and yet make it sound like the most incredible thing in the universe?” He teases softly in a fond tone barely knows he’s capable of.

“Not dirt, Ren,” Hux said with irritation, “life. Origins. The cradle that births our crops and the bed that welcomes our bodies when we slip back into the night. Why must you be so literal?”

He moved on to the knight’s other features, taking special care with those full lips.

“Whatever you’re doing with your mouth, keep doing it,” Hux adds, enthralled.

Kylo honestly isn’t sure he knows exactly what that is, but it’s almost impossible to keep from ruining it with a grin at the sudden request. Instead he idly licks his lips and tries to relax back into whatever he’d been doing a moment ago.

“I’m not sure you can chide me for being so literal when you’re the one spinning elegant metaphors about death. I suppose we just cancel each other out then, don’t we?”

“You think you’re so clever, don’t you,” Hux says, punctuating every word. He applies the shadows to Kylo’s face in the picture, fussing over little details.

“It’s really a shame you hide that face of yours. Your nose is utterly perfect.” Hux smiles to himself, avoiding Ren’s eyes.

By this point, Kylo has to wonder if Hux knows exactly what he’s doing. The words seem to tumble from him so effortlessly, as if he’s long past the point of caring what might slip free. Each compliment has his face flushing a little warmer, and it’s even more difficult to accept them when they’re about something as unusual as his nose. He can’t tell if he wants to immediately change the subject, or prompt Hux for more and bask in the praise like a touch he’s gone too long without.

“I’d argue with you about that, but you’re the one with the artistic eye here, aren’t you?” There’s an almost timid sort of smile pulling at one corner of his mouth, not quite as wide and unabashed as his earlier smirk but somehow speaking volumes more. Only then does he lose his nerve just the faintest bit. He glances down at the drawing in Hux’s lap instead and adds:

“Are you going to let me see it soon? I mean, properly? I’m guessing upside down is hardly the optimal viewing angle...”

Hux holds up a hand and makes a gesture as if to push Ren back physically. It halts just short of Ren’s looming face and he splays his fingers out in a clear gesture to stop.

“Not yet. You’re so impatient.”

Kylo’s only leaning forward a mere inch or two when Hux reaches up to stop him, as if he’s truly afraid the Knight might just launch himself into his lap if given the chance. He pulls back when he’s met with the crystal-clear gesture, surprise flitting across his features before he glances up at Hux and then back down to his outstretched hand.

“I’ve been sitting here for hours and you’re going to call me impatient?” He answers, one brow carefully arched. A moment later and he’s made up his mind, breaking free of his rigid pose to reach up and touch his fingertips to Hux’s as if he isn’t sure what’s going to happen.

Hux is about to point out that it certainly hasn’t been hours when he startles at the sudden touch and shoots Kylo a wry smile before swiping his fingers right across the bridge of his big nose, leaving a graphite smudge on his face. He makes a rough hiccuping noise and then a laugh tumbles out of him at the sight.

When Hux moves his hand Kylo pulls his own back as well, uncertainty creasing his brows before those darkened fingertips are reaching for him. He flinches just a moment too late, the action catching him by surprise, and when he blinks his eyes open again, he isn’t entirely sure why Hux is practically doubled over. He starts to reach up to touch his nose but stops short when he catches sight of his own graphite-smeared fingertips, and it suddenly clicks.

“You absolute child,” he teases with a soft laugh, the heat gone from his words as he lifts his clean hand to try and rub at the mark. But he gives up rather quickly, and instead reaches forward to exact his revenge with a dark smudge brushed over Hux’s cheek.

Hux places the drawing on the chair and lunges for Kylo, laughing. He manages to catch his jaw and leave a long smear just under his chin.

“You’re going to regret this,” he says as he tries to pin the knight down in order to press his hand against a clean spot on his face.

Kylo tries to jerk his chin away from the assault, but it’s pretty much the only fight he’s putting up as he tumbles backward with Hux half on top of him. He’d probably suggest it was only the case because the General had caught him by surprise, but that wasn’t entirely true.

“Says the man who started it,” he answers with a crooked grin, reaching up to catch Hux’s wrist and protect the last few unmarked inches of his face. His other hand darts up to snag a lock of fiery hair, staining it with a dark streak.

“It’s a good look on you.”

Hux flicks back his hair in annoyance and distributes his weight more evenly on Kylo. He barely registers that he’s straddling him when he leans in with a wicked grin and smears graphite in a long swipe down his bare chest.

Kylo keeps a loose grip on Hux’s wrist for a moment longer, but doesn’t exactly do much to stop his other hand. He just glances down between them, mouth dropping open in shock before he looks back up and narrows his gaze.

He doesn’t offer any clever quip this time--just grins and shifts his weight, rolling them over as swiftly as he can manage. That is to say, it’s a bit clumsy, but it gets the job done without causing any bodily harm. Somehow he’s already a touch breathless when he reaches for Hux’s hands again, gathering them up to trap them above his head. The smirk on his lips is infinitely smug, feeling so pleased with himself for successfully disarming his only weapon.

Kylo’s quiet for a beat, eyes flickering over Hux’s smudged face, taking in the fingerprint-sized streaks that trace over his cheek, his jaw, his neck. He licks at his lower lip, gaze turning a little heavy-lidded and his smirk softening as he presses in even closer without realizing it. The vanishing space between them hardly phases him as he adds:

“Maybe now I deserve to see that drawing?”

Hux squirms beneath him, his eyes widening as Kylo leans in closer. He struggles to free his hands from Kylo’s.

“Stop that,” he commands. “My hands are dirty.”

Kylo’s brows arch a little, processing the answer he gets before he makes up his mind. He isn’t backing down just yet, not when he’s come so far without even realizing it.

“My hands are dirty, too. What are you afraid of?”

Hux swallows, certain the knight can see it. At the moment he’s afraid that Ren is going to notice he has a hard-on. He tries to shift beneath him but Ren is too close-- much too close. And those gleaming eyes are gazing into his and he can feel the other’s breath against his mouth and he wishes, illogically, that he could draw at this angle and capture the predatory look on Ren’s face while he hovers over him.

“I… surrender,” he says quietly.

Kylo can’t help the soft but sudden laugh that escapes him. He feels like his chest might just burst with the warmth coiling up inside of him.

“And I accept. You fought valiantly, General.”

With that, he finally gives himself permission to steal the kiss he’s been wanting all night, lips pressed gently but not timidly to Hux’s.

Hux can no more stop his body from pressing against Ren’s as those perfect lips devour his than he could hold back the vacuum of space with his bare hands. He arches his back and shamelessly pushes his hips up to meet the knight’s, clasps the hands that hold his.

A telltale groan escapes his throat as he deepens the kiss, momentarily unconcerned with anything but finding the rhythm Ren’s mouth is setting.

Kylo knows he should probably be thinking about what he’s doing. It’s a fairly typical reminder he gives himself. But now it’s more impossible than ever when the ‘doing’ is so much more enjoyable. It feels like relief and eager anticipation all in one as Hux shifts beneath him, warm and inviting in a way he’d only let himself to think about in the dark hours of the night.

He swallows each noise Hux offers, lapping the taste of it from his mouth once he’s finally allowed inside. There’s nothing shy about what he’s doing. For once, he’s taking what he wants.

Hux pauses for a shaky breath and gazes into Ren’s eyes.

“This is probably a bad idea but right now I can’t think of a single good reason I should be so obnoxiously overdressed for this. May I have my hands back?”

Kylo only draws back when it dawns on him that maybe they should breathe, giving them a moment to let Hux get his modest request out.

“Your hands-- right, of course,” he answers with sheepish laugh, loosening his grip. He draws back to sit up on his knees, watching Hux for a moment before he adds, “I dare you to tell me why this is a bad idea. If you can do that, I’ll go.” Simple as that. But there’s a coy grin tucked into one corner of his lips.

“At the moment,” Hux says, unfastening his pants and slipping them off-- trying not to look utterly foolish in the process, “I can’t think of a single reason.”

He’s not thinking clearly and has no plans to begin doing so. Ren’s mouth is warm and waiting and his hands…

_His hands._

Hux slips back into that embrace, seeking Ren’s lips with his own and completely unconcerned about the fact that they’re both currently on the floor and smudged with graphite. If he stops too long he and the knight might come to their senses and he’s enjoying himself too much to want that to happen.

Kylo only moves enough to let Hux shed his pants, shifting his weight and helping him tug them off so they’re both left in nothing but their underwear when Hux reaches for him again. He curls down over him, claiming another kiss and basking in all that newly-exposed skin just waiting to be marked like the rest; pale flesh dappled with graphite like overeager bruises. The marks won’t last as long, obviously, but Ren finds himself enjoying them just as much. They don’t need to be permanent. They just need to happen now because that’s all he can think about. No past apprehension, no future regrets. Just now.

“Wait,” Hux gasps, he’s laughing. “Just-- just let me look at you for a moment.”

He takes Ren’s face in his hands. The smudges on his fingers are almost gone but he leaves the ghost of a gray spot on one cheek as he caresses it with his thumb.

“I wish I could capture you like this. You’re incredible.” He drinks in the sight of Ren and touches his lips, his chin, the tip of his nose, the corner of a brow. He strokes each perfect feature in turn as though he could memorize them with his fingers and call them to the page whenever he likes.

“Has no one ever told you how breathtaking your face is?”

“Breathtaking?” Kylo repeats the word softly, brows crinkling just a touch beneath Hux’s wandering fingertips. It feels like such a foreign concept, but so does the rest of it-- being drawn and studied and touched like he’s some priceless work of art. He almost wants to squirm away from the scrutiny, but there’s nothing but fondness and reverence in Hux’s gaze when he looks at him.

“No one but you.”

Hux can’t help but smile faintly at that. Of course not. He wears the mask all the time. What could that be but a mark of self-consciousness. Kylo obviously doesn’t need it.

He leans in for another kiss, this one gentle and reassuring. His fingers tangle in that unruly black hair and he sighs.

“I think you ought to be told more often.”

Ren gives another soft laugh at that, and a noncommittal sort of shrug.

“I suppose that would be your job now, wouldn’t it? I’m not sure you’re ready for that kind of responsibility… But I appreciate the sentiment.”

He reaches up to take the hand that’s tangled in his hair, gently tugging it free so he can bring it down to his lips for a soft, lingering kiss over the backs of Hux’s knuckles.

“I wish I had the talent that you do so I could show you what I see. The way you do for me.”

“And what’s that?” Hux asks, genuinely curious. He slips a hand down to rub gently against the small of Ren’s back, enjoying the heat of his body, the responsiveness as the other settles into the touch, almost snuggling against him in a way that’s so enjoyable that for a moment he can’t imagine he’s being allowed to do this.

“Don’t you remember me trying and failing miserably to describe the color of your eyes?” Kylo answers with a crooked grin, a smile gracing his features more genuine than he’s felt in a very long time. “I mean, maybe I’m wrong and you’re fully aware of just how handsome you are, but… I’m sure you could use a reminder, too. And one or ten pictures of you curled up with Millicent. Maybe one of you standing up on the bridge, looking like you’re ready to devour entire star systems. That’s what you’d see, if I could do what you can do.”

“Flatterer,” Hux purrs. He slips a finger into the waistband of Ren’s undershorts just to rub gently at the soft skin there. “Keep posing for me. Come back to my quarters when you’re free and we can do this again.”

“You don’t want to keep doing this now?” Ren asks.

“Right now I’ve got something else in mind.” Hux pulls him into another long kiss that leaves no doubt about his intentions.

It earns a noise from Ren that’s rather unlike any other he’s let slip; soft and embarrassingly eager as he presses back down into Hux to beg for more. Through some miracle, he manages to tear himself away just long enough to drum up a proper answer, murmured against the corner of the General’s mouth.

“Show me.”

 

***

It’s early when Kylo first wakes. The peacefulness of it is only broken when he realizes he’s not in his own bed, jolting him from his sleepiness for a second or two. But it’s over in a flash, and he relaxes again once the memories come flooding back, reminding him of where he is-- of who he’s with. Not that he really needs any memories to remind him of that, though, when the person in question is still curled up in his arms.

He tightens his grip on Hux, snuggling closer against the General’s back as he lets out a deeply contented sigh. The man is obviously still fast asleep, and Kylo wants to savor every second of it, like the spell might be broken once they’re both awake and admit that they still have things to do. Responsibilities to uphold that aren’t in Hux’s private quarters.

So he relaxes for a moment longer, fingertips gently tracing over Hux’s skin, over his chest down toward his belly, back over his hip and up to skim along his arm. But when he reaches his wrist, his fingertips brush over something that feels an awful lot like… paper.

Kylo finally moves to sit up then, shifting carefully so he won’t jostle his partner too much and risk waking him. He reaches down and carefully pulls the paper free from Hux’s hand, his fingertips lightly smudged with graphite that’s probably only partially leftover from the night before.

He lifts the paper up and smoothes the corners out with a gentle touch, fixing the parts that Hux must have accidentally crumpled a bit in bed. It’s another sketch of himself-- asleep. It doesn’t quite look finished, but he can make out his own features, drawn with such a painstaking amount of care and detail that contrasts with the rest, sketched much more loosely. He’s lying in bed, the sheets pooled around his hips, looking so peaceful in a way he’d never imagined himself capable of.

It’s not a drawing he’s seen before, and it’s not hard to imagine why.

Kylo spots the stick of graphite lying next to Hux’s other hand, nearly lost among the tangle of sheets, and stops to set the paper on Hux’s nightstand where it’s safe before he reaches for it. He tests the tip against the pad of his finger, finding it soft and dark, and lifts it to Hux’s bare shoulder to draw a small heart there, just far enough back that he isn’t sure Hux would be able to see it at all. Not unless he really looks or catches sight of himself in a mirror. With any luck, he won’t find it until much later, undressing after another long day.

He pauses to admire his work with a fond grin before then lifting the graphite again to make one last little adjustment; his own initials, just beside the heart. His grin turns infinitely more pleased and just a touch cheeky.

Finally he’s satisfied and sets the stick aside so he can resume his earlier position pressed in close against Hux’s back. And once one he’s huddled back under the covers, forehead nudged gently against the nape of his lover’s neck, he murmurs into warm skin:

“Maybe I’ve got a little bit of talent after all...”


End file.
